


Shuksan Peak

by AzulNightmare



Category: Biohazard | Resident Evil (Gameverse), Resident Evil - All Media Types
Genre: M/M, Rehabilitation, Slow Build
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-11
Updated: 2020-01-12
Packaged: 2020-12-09 10:23:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 12,777
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20993252
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AzulNightmare/pseuds/AzulNightmare
Summary: After the events of RE6, Chris loses himself and gets sent to a remote rehab to recover. An unwelcome person of his past shows up while he's at his weakest.





	1. They Tried to Make Me Go to Rehab and Sadly, I Said Yes

** _Monday, 6:50 a.m._ **

** _Room 14_ **

** _Shuksan Peak Rehab, WA_ **

It was pouring, fat raindrops splashing against the roof of Shuksan Peak Rehab as a storm was rolling in. Streaks of lightning flashed from the dark skies and lit up the surrounding mountains, thunder booming down like an afterthought.

_ “Piers don’t do this!” _

Lighting struck and the following thunder sounded like the submarine falling apart, sounded like Piers’s coffin closing with no body inside.

_ “Piers!” _

Chris Redfield jerked awake, sweat clinging to his face as he gasped for air and sat up in his bed. He shoved his face into his hands, shutting his eyes as tremors racked his body. The dreams were getting worse lately, no doubt due to the upcoming anniversary of Piers’s death. If Chris was anywhere else in the world he would’ve spent the last week drunk to the point he couldn’t think anymore, but he was stuck at Shuksan Peak until he held up his end of a promise.

_ “You’re destroying yourself, Chris. Piers didn’t want his death to turn you into an alcoholic, his death meant for you to carry on fixing the world. This needs to end now.” _

Jill Valentine was always a direct woman when it came to fixing problems and she could tell when Chris was in a dark place. This time she had pulled out the big guns, giving Chris the option between make or break.

_ “I know of a nice rehab in Washington state, quiet and far away from any cities. You check in there and take a break from the BSAA or else you’re out of here.” _

So far he’s been at the rehab for a few weeks, but he still doesn’t feel like the old Chris. He doesn’t know if he’ll ever be.

Chris sighs as he finally calms down and gets out of bed. It’s pitch black in the room as it’s still lights out and far too early for the sun to come up, but occasionally a strike of lighting outside sets the room aglow through the ceiling window. It isn’t like there’s much to look at in his room aside from his bed, closet, and bookshelf. You aren’t allowed to have much in rehab and Chris only brought the essentials.

He walks over to the bathroom door and heads inside, wincing as the lights flicker on and briefly blind him. He goes to the sink and turns on the cold water, splashing his face to cool his flushed skin and wash off the sweat. As he glances up he catches his reflection and cringes at the bags under his eyes, at the unkempt stubble growing wildly over his face, and his too long brown hair. Personal hygiene hasn’t always been a top priority for him, but this is a new low.

As Chris leaves the bathroom the lights in his room blink on and a knock on the door is all the warning he gets as a nurse comes in. He frowns as he realizes it’s Mrs. Weaver, one of the oldest nurses at the rehab. She’s a rude and spiteful old woman, no doubt due to too many years at Shuksan where patients she once could understand and have the patience for are now just another problem that needs to get fixed and out of her hair.

“Redfield, come take your pill. I don’t got all day, son.” She grumbles and holds out her hands. In one she holds a dixie cup full of water and the other held his Librium (or also known as the mouthful chlordiazepoxide) tablet. It didn’t help the urge to drink, but it stopped the shakes that sometimes overtook his body. 

“Thanks,” Chris says and the lady grunts before leaving. He puts the pill in his mouth and swallows it down with the water, tossing the cup into a tiny trash can in his room before leaving.

Chris heads toward the cafeteria, walking down a long hallway surrounded by white walls and the occasional abstract painting. Shuksan wasn’t extraordinary by any decorating means and it was pretty bland compared to the gorgeous mountains around it, but he did have a favorite spot. There was this little alcove in the library that was right next to an old fireplace, whenever Chris had free time in the afternoons he would always go there to read a book. He guesses he would call it his safe place.

He doesn’t pass that many people in the hallway, most of them are probably just getting up or already chowing down on breakfast. He doesn’t know anyone here beside his counselor, a handful of nurses, and the admissions director and that won’t be changing. It isn’t like the people in Shuksan are bad, but Chris doesn’t feel like getting close to anyone. His history with past friendships ending badly is evidence as to why.

_ “Piers!” _

_ He can’t do this, can’t lose anyone else. Not Piers, why’d he- _

Chris shakes himself out of the memory and clenches his fists, tears threatening to spill out of his eyes but looks up to force them away.

After getting a plate full of eggs, bacon, and hash browns from the cooks Chris wanders over to his usual table by the windows and sits down. The cafeteria is halfway empty and almost silent except a surprisingly excited group by the doors, Chris watches them with annoyance and glances down at his breakfast with a sigh as he digs in with his plastic spork. Once he swallows his first bite of eggs he glances up and jumps at the sight of another person sitting with him.

“Uh,” Chris weakly says and clears his throat as the man sitting across from him continues to stare straight into his eyes. “Can I help you?”

The other man, who looks far less put together than Chris, frowns and a serious expression fills his face. “Did you hear about the new counselor that came in today?”

Chris glances around and frowns, thrown off by the other man’s strange behavior. “No. I’m sorry, but do I know you?”

The stranger shook his head and his bloodshot eyes bounce all over the room before looking back at Chris, “I gotta go.”

Chris watches as the man gets up and rushes out, almost knocking over a cart of dirty dishes before scurrying around the corner. Chris feels his gut twist and he no longer feels like eating.


	2. My My, Hey Hey (Out of the Blue and Into the Bad)

** _Monday, 5:06 p.m._ **

** _Mrs. Cortez’s Office_ **

** _Shuksan Peak Rehab, WA_ **

Chris sat in his counselor’s office, hands twisting nervously in his lap. It was time for his daily one on one session with Mrs. Cortez, but something was off. She still smiled at him when he first walked into her office and still kindly asked how his day was, but he could see trouble plaguing her eyes.

Mrs. Cortez was a nice lady, one that gave the aura of a concerned mother at times. She was the only person at Shuksan that Chris felt like he could stand to be around. Even if parts of her seemed to be soft like her soothing brown eyes and smooth hands not broken in by hard work he could tell she was a strong woman, that behind the faint wrinkles by her eyes that she too had a past that haunted her. 

“What’s going on Mrs. Cortez? Is something wrong?” Chris asks and she smiles in a way to try and soothe him, but it only makes him tense up further. She seems to notice his uncomfortable state as her smile quickly turns into a wince, her dainty eyebrows furrowing down on her face.

“No, I’m sorry if I’m worrying you Chris. I just have some news, good news!” She cheerfully says and smiles again, but Chris doesn’t let himself relax.

“You’ll be getting a new counselor. I haven’t met him yet, but from what I’ve heard he seems like a good guy. I know this might seem sudden, but change isn’t always a bad thing!”

Chris feels worry strike his heart and his shoulders ache from the way he’s coiled up so tight. His fingers dig into the leather chair and his breath stutters as an overwhelming wave of anxiety washes over him. Just when he was getting used to the place the one person he tethered himself to is leaving, but doesn’t everybody leave him in the end?

_ “I’m sorry...Captain …” _

_ He shouldn’t be sorry, he can be sorry when they get out. He can be sorry when they’re both alive and- _

Chris tries to focus again as Mrs. Cortez calls his name, his hearing coming back from the all encompassing mess of his thoughts and he relaxes his death grip on the chair. It’s almost funny to think how he used to be able to take on B.O.W.’s in his sleep, but the moment someone makes for the exit out of Chris’s life it’s time for panic to overwhelm him. He clears his throat to get rid of the lump stuck there and glances up at her worried face.

“C-Can I ask why you’re getting replaced?” He questions and she nods, clasping her hands together on top of her desk.

“I’ve recently got a reply from a rehab center I applied to down in California and with most of my family living there I took it. It was an offer I couldn’t refuse.”

Chris nods and tries not to act like a kid about the whole thing, to instead suck it up and act like the man he’s supposed to be.

“I get it, family is always important. God knows what I would do without mine.” He sighs and thinks of Claire, smiling to himself at the thought of his brave sister. His smile wobbles though as he tries to recall the last time they talked and he pushes back those emotions for later.

“I’m glad you have others to support you Chris, and hopefully your new counselor will be able to step up and fulfill that role.”

“We’ll see,” is all he says as he stands up and Mrs. Cortez looks at him curiously.

“I think I’ll be leaving now, I don’t want to miss dinner.” Chris says and she nods in understanding before giving him a smile.

“I hope you enjoy the rest of your day Chris.”

He gives her a small smile meant as a goodbye before leaving. His shoulders immediately slouch down as soon as he gets into the hallway and he sighs, gripping the bridge of his nose as a headache pounds throughout his skull. It’s almost time for him to take his Librium and it couldn’t come any quicker.

Chris straightens up and heads towards the library, deciding to forgo dinner in favor of relaxing and reading in his alcove. As he moves down the hallway he notices through the skylight windows that it has finally stopped storming outside and now it’s just overcast. It lightens his mood slightly, but he continues to trudge on and finally goes inside the library doors.

The library itself has to be the most impressive room at Shuksan. The glass roof has an amazing view of the stars at night and the fearsome storms during the day. It’s walls are covered in towering bookshelves that nearly reach the ceiling and the floors are a dark wood where in some spots lush rugs rest over it. Scattered around the room are desks and tables pushed together for group sessions, the occasional forgotten book left behind on them.

Chris makes his way to the back, the crackling of the lit fireplace drawing him to the alcove in the corner. It isn’t a big space, likely two or three people could comfortably fit. It had a small red loveseat that rested against the wall and a dark brown wicker chair across from it, a coffee table sat in the middle.

He gets closer and can’t help, but frown as he realizes someone is in his spot. Normally this doesn’t happen as most people at the rehab could care less about the library, but the person in the alcove doesn’t look like anyone Chris has seen in Shuksan.

The person, who he can now tell is a man, has his back facing Chris. The other man’s hair is slicked back, not a single stray blond hair out of place. His crisp lab coat has no stains or wrinkles and his black shoes have a warm shine on them due to the nearby fire. Chris feels his heart stop in his chest, a breath wheezing out of his lungs as his brain tries to make connections that shouldn’t be there.

_ “I should’ve killed you years ago… Chris.” _

“Wesker,” Chris whispers to himself and he flinches as the other man turns around. Pale blue eyes meet his, almost gunmetal grey at how faint the blue is. Everything slows down as Chris takes in the rest of the man, the thin lips that are opening to speak, the faint eyebrows that have the barest arch curving downwards in confusion, the perfectly straight nose.

Chris wants to run, wants to scream because he knows Wesker is dead. He died in a volcano after getting shot in the head by rocket launchers. He  _ has  _ to be dead because Chris isn’t crazy, this isn’t a hallucination.

What frightens Chris the most isn’t the absence of Wesker’s cruel smirk or his strange catlike eyes, it’s the lost look in the man’s eyes as he gazes at Chris.

“Do I know you?” Wesker asks and Chris doesn’t know how to feel. Is this some sort of game? Is this a nightmare?

“I-uh,” Chris stutters and he knows his face is as white as a sheet as he runs out of the library.

“Wait!” He hears Wesker call out behind him, but Chris ignores it in favor of running back to his room and slamming the door shut. He gasps as he hears footsteps rush by and his heart races in his chest as he slides down the door. His hands shake as they come up to grip his hair and he can feel sweat building on his neck as he focuses on breathing.

Why is he back? Why here and now? Chris asks, but receives no answer. His heart continues to thump unsteadily, but as he takes in slow and deep breaths it calms down to a normal pace. He frowns as he finally gains control of his body and forces himself up, breathing still shaky as he goes towards the bathroom. He needs a shower and after that he’s sleeping for the night, forget his medicine and dinner.


	3. Runaway Train

** _Tuesday, 12:45 p.m._ **

** _Cafeteria_ **

** _Shuksan Peak Rehab, WA_ **

The burger in Chris’s hand tastes heavenly, probably because it’s made of fresh ingredients from the Shuksan gardens and a local livestocker. The fries are pretty good too, just the perfect amount of salt.

So far today Chris has managed to not think about what happened last night and his hallucination because yesterday had to be some sort of freak episode. Wesker might’ve been tough in the past but there’s no way he’s walking around Shuksan, a place in the middle of nowhere, as some sort of counselor. The idea is so ridiculous that Chris shakes his head with a smile and takes a bite out of one of his fries. The reason why that happened was probably because he barely ate anything that day and was a little dehydrated. Even as he downplays it, Chris can’t help but feel last night was the start of something big. Whether it’s him finally breaking down or Wesker turning out to be back from the dead, again.

Chris pulls himself from his thoughts as he glances at the clock and realizes it’s almost 1:00 p.m., he quickly finishes the rest of his lunch before standing. Time for art therapy. While it isn’t his favorite activity of the week it can be soothing, even if Chris’s paintings look like a six-year-old did it instead of a forty-one-year-old man. He pulls himself from his table and tosses the scraps of his lunch into the trash before making for the recreation room. 

The rec room was a big open space with colorful walls covered in art made by past rehab residents and the floor was the same dark wood as it was throughout Shuksan. Right now the tables were pushed together in groups of four, various art materials sitting on them from markers to paintbrushes and paint to pens and pencils. Activity staff were all around, speaking encouraging words to residents who were putting their all behind a paintbrush and some staff were making their own art at tables. Chris makes his way to one of the vacated groups of tables and sits down, sighing as he stares down at the blank sheet of paper in front of him.

His fingers immediately twitch towards a paintbrush and he sets out a basic palette of colors. He hesitates at the start, the empty canvas intimidating in it’s blankness until he sets down a stroke of red. It quickly becomes a relaxing process, not thinking about what should go where but instead doing whatever feels right.

This is why he likes art therapy, nobody is bothering him and no expectations are set. It’s so unlike everything in Chris’s normal life that he clings to it. If he makes a mistake it isn’t the end of the world, if one brush stroke isn’t straight enough no one will die. He gets lost in the process, paint smear after paint smear it feels like his mind is getting clearer and he can almost say he feels at peace. It feels like no time has passed before Chris hears footsteps walk up to him and he glanced around to see people leaving the rec room.

“That looks good, Chris. I think this is one of your best paintings yet,” one of the activity staff say and Chris looks over his shoulder. A young man stands behind him, head full of brown curls and hazel eyes filled with warmth. Chris recognizes him as one of the newer activities staff members and thinks the kid’s name is Reed, but he can’t really remember for sure.

“Thanks,” Chris gruffly says before seeing who’s standing behind Reed. His eyes narrow as he locks gazes with who he hoped was a hallucination.

Wesker stares back, face seemingly devoid of emotion but Chris has known the other man for too many years for him to be played so easily. Wesker wants to say something, Chris can tell by the way he’s fiddling with his lab coat and the furrow between his brows. Reed, oblivious to the sudden tension between the two, smiles and goes over to another table. Wesker looks between Reed’s departing back and Chris’s harsh glare for a minute, hesitating on his next move. It throws Chris for a loop because the Wesker he knows would have every step calculated and planned to a T, but this man in front of him is doing the opposite of that. This Wesker almost looks… nervous.

Chris puts on his brave face and can’t look at Wesker as he addresses the man. “What do you want?”

Wesker frowns and steps closer like he’s sharing a secret, “We need to talk. Privately.”

“And why would I do that?” Chris asks and feels an old hatred simmer up, a fire starting to burn in his veins.

“We both have questions and I know you have the answers I need. I don’t see how this could go badly for either of us.”

“How do I know you won’t lie to me? It was easy enough for you in the past,” Chris snaps and Wesker flinches.

“Because I don’t remember a goddamn thing!” Wesker hisses and Chris watches as the man’s poker face falls, his blue eyes turning glassy as he stares back at Chris. “I don’t remember anything, but you.”

Chris doesn’t know whether or not it’s a trick meant to throw him off, but his gut tells him something’s amiss and it’s never been wrong. For the time being he reigns in all the old feelings of hurt, anger, and resentment.

“Fine, let’s say I believe in your “amnesia” but we’re meeting on my terms. We’ll talk at the library in fifteen minutes and don’t try anything, Wesker.”

“I won’t, but I’m afraid I have to make my exit now. Mr. Reed has no doubt lost me.” Wesker says and ducks his head as a goodbye while he leaves. Chris watches him go and feels a bit of nostalgia as Wesker’s lab coat swishes dramatically behind him. When he’s the last person in the room, Chris puts his head down on his desk and lets out a groan. He pulls his head up and looks at his painting, frowning as he looks into a set of red catlike eyes before standing up and heading to the library.

Chris bumps into someone on his way out and says a quick “sorry” under his breath as he hurries through hallway. He pushes through the library doors and takes in a quick survey of the room, noting only a few people milling about and keeping to themselves. He makes his way to the alcove and stops, hands awkwardly hanging at his sides.

Is it really smart to talk to Wesker? A man who’s a master of mind games and screwing over anyone and everybody to come out on top. Chris crosses his arms and shakes his head, frowning as he wonders if he was too quick on his answer. What did Wesker stand to gain? He doubted Wesker already had a new virus to take over the world with so soon and as far as Chris knew there weren’t any Umbrella owned buildings nearby that could hold secret underground labs. The only thing Wesker could want out of this had to be his supposed missing memories, though God knows why he came to Chris wanting that. It doesn’t seem like Wesker to forget everyone except for Chris, the one person he hated with his entire being.

Chris shrugs off the questions and goes to sit down in the alcove, rubbing his temple as his mind aches from trying to figure out Wesker’s plan. He must zone off at some point because he jumps as he hears someone clearing their throat nearby.

Chris grunts and sits properly in his chair. “Wesker, take a seat.”

Chris left the loveseat open on purpose as it’s closer to the fireplace, meaning if Wesker tries to make a move Chris would have a chance to push the man into the roaring flames behind him. Hopefully, everything ends peacefully for both their sakes.

“I don’t even know where to start,” Wesker says as he sits down and his posture is impeccably straight. Somehow that tiny detail makes Chris grit his teeth because even if Wesker did lose his memories, he’s still too perfect for his own good.

“Let’s start with why and how you’re here because I find it hard to believe that out of the entire world, you end up at Shuksan.” Chris frowns and leans forward. “I’m sure you had better backup plans.”

Wesker hesitates and takes a moment before he talks, hands tightly clenched together in his lap. “I don’t really understand how I came here. I’ve been having moments of consciousness where I’m at places I don't remember going to, where I’m doing things I don’t normally do. When I arrived here it’s the clearest my mind’s been in a long time.”

Chris can’t help the confusion that overcomes him and he narrows his eyes as he stares at the other man. “Just how long have you been like this?”

Wesker sighs and runs a hand down his face, his eyes fluttering around before he glances at Chris. “Four years I believe.”

Chris opens his mouth and closes it, looking away from Wesker. Wesker’s been alive for the past four years and Chris was none the wiser. It hits a fear he’s always had with Wesker, can he even kill the man? He doesn’t know how to process the new information and shoves it to the back of his mind before asking his next question.

“Where were you all this time then?”

“I first remember being in the states, somewhere down south by the muggy weather and various swamps. I wouldn’t stay long in one place though, I would always black out and awake in a new city. I wouldn’t be surprised if I’ve been to every state.”

“How did you manage to survive? By the way you make it sound you weren’t aware of what you were doing and where you were half of the time.”

“I assumed that whatever happened during the blank spots in my memory I had taken care of those issues as whenever I came back to awareness I felt perfectly fine.”

Chris’s mouth twitches down. “Did you have any moments of freak strength? Any memories of moving faster than a normal person should?”

This time Wesker frowns and shakes his head. 

“I think it’s time for my questions, Chris.” He says and the man composes himself, face turning empty as Chris sighs.

“Fine.”

“I have this… feeling that we’ve known each other for a long time, but I can’t remember anything about you besides your name and appearance. How did we meet?”

Chris raises an eyebrow, but gives in. “We used to work together in a division called S.T.A.R.S. and you were the captain of Alpha team, but I don’t know if it counts as working together if you were betraying everybody all along.”

“I’ve noticed you hold quite the resentment towards me. Do you mind explaining?”

Chris chuckles to himself and shakes his head, arms crossed as he leans back in his chair. “That’s lightly putting it seeing as we tried to kill each other multiple times.”

Wesker’s mouth parts and a shaky exhale falls from his lips. “Tried to kill each other you say?”

“Yeah, you’ve beaten me black and blue and I’ve shot you to hell and back.”

“That seems a bit extreme. What lead to such fighting?”

Chris sighs and looks at Wesker, at the pale blue eyes he hasn’t seen in years and suddenly he feels like a tired old man. This fight between them has gone on for so long and Chris knows it ended the day the old Wesker died in a volcano. This Wesker in front him doesn’t seem to harbor any insanity, he seems… innocent.

“It’s a long story, one that I wish I could forget.” Chris finally says and glances back towards the floor. He hears Wesker shift on the loveseat and looks up, watching as the man frowns and clutches his head. Chris moves to stand up and flinches as he hears Wesker hiss in pain.

“What’s happening? Wesker, tell me what’s wrong.” Chris demands and reaches out with his hand to grab Wesker’s shoulder, but the man jerks back into the loveseat.

“I-_ agh _-I don’t know! This has never happened before,” Wesker grimaces and curls forward before crumpling.

Chris moves and grabs a hold of the man before he can hit the floor, grunting at the surprisingly heavy weight. He lifts Wesker back onto the seat and lays him on his back, squatting down to look at the man’s face. Wesker has broken out into a cold sweat, his mouth set in a wince as his eyes move rapidly under his eyelids.

“Wesker, can you hear me?” Chris asks and dares to put his hand out to feel the man’s rapid pulse, a faint brush of air moves Chris’s hair everytime Wesker breathes heavily through his mouth. Chris stands up and looks around the library for help, but it’s completely empty besides the two of them.

As Chris gets ready to turn back to Wesker he feels a hand clasp onto his leg and Chris looks down with a grunt of pain to see Wesker’s long fingers digging harshly into the thin sweatpants he’s wearing. Chris grabs the hand and pulls, gasping as the hand lets go and another sends him sprawling onto his back atop the coffee table.

Wesker quickly stands and towers over Chris, finally opening those closed eyelids to reveal what Chris never wanted to see again in his life. Red catlike eyes gaze down at Chris with amusement, a chilling smirk that haunts Chris in his darkest dreams manifests itself on Wesker’s face.

  
“Why, Chris. Did you really think it was going to be _ that _easy to forget?”


	4. Black Water

_ **Tuesday, 4:00 p.m.** _

_ **Library** _

_ **Shuksan Peak Rehab, WA** _

Chris chokes as Wesker plants his foot on his throat, pain sizzling along his nerves as his air supply is suddenly cut off.

“Did you really think you could have defeated me, a  _ god _ ? The idea is such a silly notion, Chris. I would’ve thought simple minded beasts like you could understand that.”

Chris grunts as he feels his neck creak from too much pressure and he wheezes as Wesker takes his foot away to instead lift Chris up into the air. He weakly grasps at Wesker’s hands wrapped around his throat and stares into the other man’s demonic eyes, his heart racing in his chest as he tries to take in the situation.

“W-what was all this then?” Chris asks and sighs as Wesker’s grip relaxes the tiniest fraction as the man focuses on him. “The sudden memory loss, the blue eyes, playing as a counselor. What’re you trying to do here, Wesker?”

Wesker smirks and leans in closer, face only inches from Chris’s own. “Wouldn’t you like to know.”

Chris feels Wesker’s grip tighten again on his throat and he knows his eyes are bulging, his face turning red as veins protrude from his skin.

“But,” Wesker says as he drops a gasping Chris on the floor and turns away. “I’m afraid to say playtime is over. I’m sure the next time we’ll see each other it will be far more…  _ exciting _ .”

With those words Wesker’s body tumbles downwards and Chris winces at the harsh thud made as the other man’s skull smacks into the hardwood floor. Chris gets himself off the ground and groans as his neck twinges uncomfortably, no doubt an ugly bruise will be there tomorrow morning.

Chris hesitates, glancing between the library doors and Wesker’s unconscious body. He really should leave, get back to his room and call up Jill to report this mess but he finds himself walking over to Wesker instead. Maybe he’s getting sentimental, but there might be a chance that Chris can fix this and it feels too personal to bring anyone else in.

He doesn’t know where to go as he throws Wesker’s arm over his shoulder and hauls the man against his side, but they have to get out of the library.

“You have some explaining to do when you wake up.” Chris says with a frown to the other man’s unconscious face. He sighs as he drags them both to the doors, pushing them slightly open to peer out into the hallway. In the distance a doctor’s back faces Chris, but it quickly disappears around a corner. Chris glances around once more before leaving the library.

Now isn’t the time to get caught, Wesker is far too dangerous to be around any civilians and Chris knows that the situation they’re currently in looks bad. A rehab resident dragging a knocked out counselor behind him wouldn’t be a welcomed sight.

Chris takes his time and ducks behind corners anytime he hears footsteps. It feels like years have passed until they finally get into the hallway where his room is, Chris lets himself relax a little as he sees Room 11 up ahead.

“Homestretch,” Chris says to himself and grunts as he pulls Wesker along. Exercise, he’s never realized how much his body needs it after this.

Chris swears as he sees someone suddenly come around the corner and his heart races in his chest as everything slows down. Mrs. Weaver’s wrinkled face stares down at the ground, a sneer contorting her mouth as she grumbles to herself. Chris quickly looks around for any sort of escape as his room is still too far away and his eyes lock onto the supply closet to his right.

“God I hope this works,” Chris whispers and quickly opens the surprisingly unlocked door before pulling them both inside. The door slams shut loudly behind them and Chris can only gasp as he falls over, Wesker landing on top of him and pushing all of the air out of his lungs.

Chris can hear footsteps coming down the hallway and he curses, trying to stand up but he can only groan as he feels a new bruise bloom on his back.

“Alright, I know you're in there. Whatever you thought about doin’ is over, so get out.” Mrs. Weaver says from the hallway and Chris swallows harshly as he tries to figure out what to say. “Don’t make me come in there.”

“I-I’m a little occupied at the moment,” Chris says and winces at how it sounds.

Mrs. Weaver guffaws and the shrill noise of her laughter sends a chill down Chris’s spine. “Should’ve known that you were up to no good, Redfield. You looked the type.”

Chris frowns, but bites back the retort on the tip of his tongue. No need to aggravate the woman further, if she opens that door there’ll be more trouble than he could handle.

“Listen, boy.” Mrs. Weaver says and it sounds like she’s right up against the door. “I’ll let you go if you’d agree to a deal with me.”

Chris grunts as he tries to shift Wesker off his body, but sighs as the man just falls back on him. “What kind of deal?”

“Hmm,” She drawls and Chris hates the way she’s dragging this out. “Whenever it’s time for you to take your pill, instead of swallowing you should let me keep it.”

“You shouldn’t be messing with drugs, Mrs. Weaver.”

“Says the alcoholic, now. Do we have a deal? Or will I have to come in and report whatever I find inside this closet. It’s up to you, Redfield.”

Chris hates Mrs. Weaver in that moment, hates how he’s in this whole situation. For a brief few seconds he almost feels like saying no, but he can’t let that happen.

“Fine, take the goddamn pills. Just get out of here and act like you saw nothing, old lady.”

Mrs. Weaver snorts and he can hear her shuffling away, her voice faint as she calls out to him. “You best remember who’s in charge.”

Chris waits until he can’t hear her anymore before wiggling out from underneath Wesker, sighing as he leans against the closet’s walls. Sometimes his life feels like one problem after another, always searching for a solution for the chaos of the world. Chris thought rehab would be his time to find his old self again, the one who could be carefree and happy without so much pressure on his shoulders. Now it’s turning out to be more of the same.

He gets himself off the floor and puts his hands on his waist as he stares down at his mortal enemy. The other man was the reason Chris has suffered through so much, the reason why any friends Chris had are no more than corpses and bad memories. But can he really say that? The old Wesker is undoubtedly still alive, but there’s also something new. A new Wesker that doesn’t deserve the sins of the monster living under his skin.

Either way, Chris doesn’t have time to waste and he bends down to haul Wesker on to his feet. Chris checks the hallway before moving out of the supply closet, hurrying down to Room 14 before anyone else can catch them. He’s never been more relieved to see the bland white walls of his room and he walks over to place Wesker down on his bed, taking off the man’s black dress shoes before tucking him in.

“You’re lucky that I’m weaker than I used to be,” Chris says to Wesker’s slack face as he crouches down by his side. “I only hope I’m still strong enough that if I need to, I can put a bullet in your head.”

With that said, Chris straightens up and heads into the bathroom to take a shower. Once he gets out, skin rubbed raw and clean, he dresses in some sweatpants before sitting down in a wicker chair by the door. 

Chris tries to stay awake, but his eyelids keep fluttering down. He gets the urge to say a quiet “goodnight”, yet he stops himself and closes his eyes. He figures he needs all the sleep he can get for tomorrow. Chris dozes and eventually drifts away to the sounds of Wesker’s deep breathing, to the pitter-patter of an incoming storm, to the distant hoot of a spotted owl.


	5. Fix You

_ **Wednesday, 5:20 a.m.** _

_ **Room 14** _

_ **Shuksan Peak Rehab, WA** _

Today is going to be a bad day. Chris could only sleep for an hour before his eyes opened again, memories keeping him awake throughout the night.

_ He’s dead and it’s my fault. I wasn’t quick enough, wasn’t strong enough, wasn’t good enough- _

Chris grunts and gets out of his chair, back aching from the awful position. He walks over to the window across the room and leans against it, his breath making the glass fog over. 

It’s the day of Piers’s death and Chris has never wanted to drink away his problems more than now. If he focuses enough he can feel his hands shaking, but he ignores it in favor of staring outside. The sun isn’t up yet, instead the moon is taking its place up in the sky. The lush forest outside is still, most animals deep asleep. A small pack of coyotes move between the trees, a few playfully biting at each other and running around.

Chris smiles a little bit at the sight, but his lips pull down as he turns to look at his bed and the person in it. Wesker is still knocked out and Chris is worried the man will never wake up, but if he survived this long like this then he should be fine. Wesker’s face still has a faint trace of a bruise on his forehead, but it’s fading fast. It’s a sign that while the virus in Wesker’s body is still there, it’s been weakened tremendously.

Chris has too many questions, yet he doesn’t know what he’ll say when Wesker wakes. The other man definitely has some explaining to do regarding the virus because he couldn’t have spent four years like this and not realize that something strange was controlling him. What if it’s all truly an act and Chris is still getting played? What if this new Wesker is genuine? What if all of this is some sort of never ending nightmare?

Chris gets off the window as his thoughts become too much and goes into the bathroom. He relieves himself and washes up, staring at his rough face in the mirror while washing his hands.

“You’ve really let yourself go.” He sadly tells his reflection. Chris frowns and looks at the stubble that’s slowly turning into a beard, getting the sudden urge to get rid of it. He digs through the cabinet under the sink and finds a safety razor and shaving cream amongst the junk. He turns on the hot water and begins to spread shaving cream on his face before grabbing his razor and starting to shave.

After a few nicks his face is finally free of the scraggly beard and only a light stubble remains. His eyes move to his hair and he quickly finds some scissors to cut it back into his old style. The whole process makes him feel lighter and he observes the changes in the mirror with something akin to pride.

_ Piers would be proud to call this man his captain. _

It’s the first positive thought Chris has had all morning and he leaves it at that, only giving himself one more glance over before heading back into the other room.

The first thing that catches his eye is that his bed is empty and the sheets have been roughly casted aside. For those two seconds Chris’s pulse skyrockets until he sees the man in question at the window, his back tense as it faces Chris.

“What happened?”

The question comes out cold, almost offhandedly but Chris can see Wesker’s reflection in the window. The man’s eyebrows are tilted downwards, his eyes staring straight at the floor, his mouth frowning. He looks afraid of what Chris has to say.

“You never told me that you still had the virus, Wesker.” Even as he talks, Chris can’t help but let a note of hurt slip out.

Wesker turns around and Chris is confronted by tears filling up those blue eyes, Wesker’s pale complexion turning blotchy as emotion overtakes him.

“I-I didn’t know what it was! I still don’t know if… if it’s a part of me or something else. If I’ve always been this monster. I thought you wouldn’t see it, but it forced its control over me in the library. I didn’t mean to hurt you, I never wanted to harm anyone”

Chris crosses his arms and watches as Wesker turns back around to the window, his hand coming up to press against the glass. Drops of rain run down the window, gray clouds looming overhead as the incoming storm threatens to downpour.

“I knew something would be different once I came here. That was reaffirmed when you recognized me in the library and I finally felt something for the first time in years. I know this situation looks bad, but I know if I leave things will only get worse.”

Wesker sounds desperate, his words frayed as he breathes quickly like a panicked animal. Chris wants to comfort him, wants to rest a warm hand on his shoulder to soothe his fears but Wesker doesn’t deserve that right now. Not when there are still fresh bruises marring Chris’s throat.

“I want to believe you Wesker, but it’s hard to put any trust in you when you hide important information from me. If we’re to go on like this then I need to be able to put some trust in you. And believe me when I say this, I want to help you get rid of this virus as much as you do. Just because I’ve had a rough past with you doesn’t mean I’ll kill you before I can save you. I’ve lost far too many people to it.”

Wesker glances over his shoulder at Chris and while his face might seem blank, his eyes are teeming with gratitude. “Thank you, Chris. I… I’ll try to cooperate better. It’s been a hard few years.”

Chris shrugs and looks down, watching as his bare feet shift on the hardwood floor as a strange feeling hits his stomach. “Thank me when we get you out of this.”

Wesker nods from Chris’s peripherals and attempts to straighten out his very wrinkled lab coat, picking off a microscopic piece of lint as he seems to gather himself.

“Well, now that this is settled I really should return to my duties. I’ll be speaking to you later, Chris.”

Chris nods and holds his breath as Wesker leaves the room, letting it rush out of his lungs as the door closes. He moves forward and sits on the edge of his bed, putting his head in his hands as he calms down.

He jumps as the door handle jiggles before the door opens. Wesker peers in sheepishly, mouth set in a wince as he moves towards a pair of dress shoes and slips them on.

“Sorry, I forgot them.” Wesker says and Chris waves it off, watching as Wesker leaves again. As the door shuts for the second time Chris lets himself relax back on his bed, a long groan coming from his mouth as he briefly stretches.

Chris quickly sits up as he suddenly remembers what’s happening today. He scrambles over to his calendar to check and he lets out a loud sigh as he sees that today is Jill’s visit.


	6. The Trial

_ **Wednesday, 1:47 p.m.** _

_ **Exercise Room** _

_ **Shuksan Peak Rehab, WA** _

“And breathe out deeply as you switch sides while raising your other arm, breathe in as you move to that side before moving back again to the middle. Breathe out, raise your arm on the other side and breathe in again as you lean towards it. Good, very good my friends.”

Chris can’t feel his hands anymore, but he thinks that’s a good thing. This is the first time he has went to yoga at Shuksan and he’s not afraid to say there are more aches over his body than he expected. He’s also burning alive thanks to the turtleneck he’s wearing to cover his bruises. It was either this or a scarf and he thought the turtleneck seemed less suspicious.

He’s noticed his shaking has returned with a vengeance along with the occasional headache. He doesn’t know how to stop them, but he knows it’s because he hasn’t had his pill since noon yesterday. Mrs. Weaver took his pills for the day with a crooked smile on her face as she slipped them into her pocket. He hasn’t seen Wesker since this morning.

“Alright, everyone take a moment to lower your arms and rest your hands on your knees. Take a deep breath in and let it out, deep breath in and out. Good, this was a very good session my friends. Let's end it with one more deep breath in and a deep breath out.”

Chris sighs as he straightens up off the yoga mat, feeling sweat bead down his body and he makes for his room to wash up. A few residents stay behind to speak to the yoga instructor and others seem to want to clean up like Chris as they hurry out. The hallways are busy as it’s family day. People chat against the hallway walls and inside rooms, pieces of conversation drifting through Chris’s ears.

As he enters his own room only silence greets him.

Chris goes into the bathroom and sets the shower on cold to cool his heated skin. He scrubs away any grime left on his body and quickly cleans himself. When he gets out of the shower he realizes he forgot to get clothes from his closet and he curses to himself before sliding his towel around his hips.

He walks out to see a blonde with a familiar skintight catsuit lounging in a chair by the door. He freezes as her light blue eyes scan over him and pause on his throat.

“Uh, I didn’t expect to see you so early Jill.” Chris nervously says and adjusts his towel a little higher.

“Thought I would surprise you and I got bored waiting after a while. Mind telling me what happened to your throat, Chris.”

Chris frowns and his hand unconsciously goes up to run over the red discoloration on his skin. “I got into an accident.”

Jill doesn’t even try to believe him as she frowns and he moves over to his closet before she can say anything.

“How’ve you been lately?” Chris asks her as he grabs another turtleneck and some sweats, quickly leaning down to grab some underwear from the suitcase on his closet floor.

“Busy, so the usual. Claire has been helping out in your absence.” Jill says and sits up straighter in her chair, her face finally losing the cold mask she’s had on since they started talking. “What about you?”

Chris sighs and can’t look at her. “I still have dreams about him, but lately I’ve been feeling better and I’ve met someone who is motivating me to get back on my feet. I only wish that I could've went to his grave today so that I could talk to him for a bit.”

He looks down at the clothes in his hand and fights the tears building in his eyes. He feels a warm hand rest on his bare shoulder and looks over to see Jill there, her mouth pulled down in a frown and her eyes wide with worry.

“The next time I visit I’ll see if I can arrange something, but you gotta stay here for now.”

Chris nods and Jill takes away her hand. He gives a quick rub at his eyes before speaking again.

“I’m gonna get dressed, make yourself at home.”

He heads into the bathroom and quickly pulls on his clothes, glancing into the mirror to see a familiar haunted look clouding his eyes. He looks away and heads back out to his room, raising an eyebrow as he sees Jill raiding his bookshelf.

“You need to widen your horizons, Chris. There’s too many horror novels and mystery books for your own good. What you need is an adventure book, they can help lighten this dark mood you have going on.”

Chris shrugs and smiles at Jill as she turns towards him. She glares at him, but can’t hold back the smile wanting to burst out on her face.

“I’ve missed you,” Chris says and walks closer.

“Get over here you big oaf, I know you want a hug.” Jill says with an eye roll and a dramatic sigh, but she’s still smiling. Chris opens up his arms and wraps them around her, a warm feeling taking over his body. It’s been years since he’s been properly hugged and he misses having casual contact with another person.

He pulls back and sits on the edge of his bed and Jill returns to her chair by the door.

“I-I had something I want to talk to you about.”

Jill’s expression turns serious at his tone and she nods for him to continue.

Chris briefly hesitates, wondering how he can bring Wesker up without alerting Jill.

“I’ve been wondering about Wesker lately.”

The name brings a sneer to Jill’s face and she huffs, crossing her arms as she leaned back in her chair. “Why are you thinking about him?”

“I’ve been having dreams about him.” Chris tells her and it’s true, he used to have dreams about Wesker coming back from the dead. Turns out they weren’t far from the mark.

“I know, I still think back to when he had a Scarab on me. What awful things he made me do under his control.” She hisses and her face turns venomous. Chris hates the old Wesker to a certain level, but Jill wanted cold hearted revenge after the Uroboros incident. It’s changed her, made her unstable, turned her into less of a person and more a shell of one.

“What happened to him though? Is he really dead after all this time?”

Jill narrows her eyes at him, “Why are you really asking all of this, Chris?”

He shrugs and his eyebrows furrow. “I don’t know, someone here just reminded me of him.”

Jill is swiftly in front of him, her hands curled in Chris’s turtleneck. Her eyes are thunderous and her mouth is set in a snarl as she practically growls at him.

“You’ve seen  _ him. _ ”

Chris gasps and grabs at Jill’s hands, pushing her away from him as he stands up.

“What the hell Jill!”

She turns away from him, running her hands over her face as she talks to herself. “Should’ve known he’d show up, didn’t think he’d get to you first.”

Chris grabs her shoulders and spins her around, anger starting to burn through his veins. 

“What are you talking about?”

Jill shakes her head, “I’ve said too much.”

“What are you trying to keep from me? Answer me, Jill.”

She brushes off his hands on her shoulders and stares into his eyes. “This is for your own good, Chris. It’s better if you don’t know.”

“I think that’s up to me whether or not I can handle it, now explain.”

“You’re not in the right state and you’re in rehab Chris, you don’t need to worry about it.”

“I don't think you’re listening to me. I can handle it, I’ve handled worse on a daily basis.”

Jill only shakes her head again. “I won’t, Chris.”

He feels hurt and so he can’t help, but pick on Jill’s fears.

“Don’t be like this, Jill! You’re playing games with me. Don’t be like Wesker.”

“I am nothing like  _ him _ and you know it.”

“Then prove it. Don’t keep me in the dark, when people do that it always turns out for the worse.”

Jill flinches and her face turns pale before she nods reluctantly. She sighs and it takes a few seconds before she speaks, “I-I… I’ve known about Wesker being alive for a long time Chris. I’ve been following his every step since he suddenly appeared back in the states. Each city he’d go to I would be right behind him and I’d always be inches away from getting rid of him before he vanished into thin air. He was last seen in Seattle and I knew with you being here Wesker would come after you.”

Suddenly the pieces are coming together in front of him. The sober moments when Chris can remember Jill always being gone, and when she came back she was always angry and taking it out on anyone nearby. Was her suggestion for him to come here also a ploy for Wesker? The thought makes him ache and he hopes it was all a coincidence, that Jill wouldn’t use him like a pawn in her chase after Wesker but now he has to know.

“So was sending me here for rehab part of your plan to get Wesker?” Chris asks and Jill blanches, her mouth moving but no words come out. A minute goes by before she looks away at the ground, expression sullen.

Chris’s eyes widen and he moves backwards. His hands shake as they come up to run through his hair and he can’t be here, he has to get away from Jill.

He pushes past her, ignoring the faint calls of his name in favor of hurrying towards the library. His whole body feels like collapsing, his lungs are shuttering in his chest as every breath feels like too much, his racing heart hurts every time it beats. The world is narrowed down to his struggling breathing and the library doors in distance.

The doors slam open loudly and everyone inside jumps, watching Chris with confusion and some even fear. Chris heads back to his alcove and is almost relieved at the sight of Wesker sitting on the loveseat, a thick book resting in his lap.

The other man glances up and he takes in Chris’s frantic state. Wrinkles appear on Wesker’s forehead as the man grows concerned.

“What’s wrong, Chris?” Wesker asks and Chris wants to laugh because everything is going wrong, but he keeps back the hysterics.

“Jill Valentine is here and she wants you dead. We’re leaving,  _ now _ .”


	7. Outside the Wall

_ **Thursday, 12:13 a.m.** _

_ **Room 14** _

_ **Shuksan Peak Rehab, WA** _

It was an hour after lights out and Chris was nervous, his suitcase packed and ready at his side. Wesker had agreed to his plan to leave Shuksan, but it wasn’t like the man had many options otherwise with Jill on his heels. She must’ve left after Chris stormed off since when he came back to his room she was gone. Even as it’s been hours since they’ve talked the pain is still fresh and he knows that they’ll never have the same easy friendship as before, not with her keeping something as big as Wesker’s return to herself.

Chris briefly wonders how much he didn’t know was going on behind the scenes. With him distracted with so many missions and after Piers’s death his fall into alcoholism, but he puts it to the back of his thoughts.

He knows that what he said to Wesker about leaving Shuksan was in the heat of the moment, but now that he’s really thinking about it leaving Shuksan looks like the best choice for the both of them. Jill is on to Wesker being at the rehab and she will kill him given the chance. Chris wants to help Wesker finally kill the virus inside him, but he also doesn’t want anyone else to get hurt in the process.

Right now Wesker should be sitting in his car waiting for Chris to sneak out, that’s if Wesker didn’t abandon the plan and is already miles away. Chris sighs and grabs his suitcase, giving his room a glance over before slipping out the door. The hallways are eerie with only the occasional light on and dead silent besides Chris’s footsteps.

The night staff consists of cleaners, a security guard at the front desk, and a few nurses. Luckily, Chris gets to leave through a side door with Wesker’s badge. The man had handed it over without a care, but Chris figures it was because Wesker wouldn’t see Shuksan again.

The side door is through an office and as Chris nears the room he feels his apprehension build. Wesker had mentioned that some medical office employees stayed late, updating and typing in information from charts. As he leans against the door he can hear the distant clicking of a keyboard and he cracks open the door to look inside. A middle-age man sits at a desk and his fingers fly over the keyboard as he types, only pausing to move his mouse and click away at something on his screen.

Chris opens the door wider and winces as it creaks slightly.

The man at the desk, either deaf or too in the zone, doesn’t seem to notice as he continues to type away. Chris closes the door behind him and lightly places his feet on the floor as he creeps over towards the exit. He moves his hand down to his pant’s pocket and slides out Wesker’s badge. The scanner is right beside the exit and Chris lifts it up so that it can scan the barcode on the badge.

Once it finishes scanning he hears the door click, but he jumps as the scanner lets out a shrill beep. He knows the noise didn’t slip by the man this time and he turns around to face the other person in the room. The man looks terrified, his face white as a sheet as his mouth hangs open.

“Uh, sorry?”

The man continued to gape at him.

“Look, you’re tired and I’m tired. Let's forget this happened.”

The man remains frozen.

“I’m just gonna… go now.”

Chris walks backwards to the door and quickly opens it, still holding eye contact with the man, before letting it shut in front of him to end the intense stare down.

He sighs as he stands outside in the cold and turns to look around the parking lot. At first glance it looks like Wesker left him behind, but after squinting at some cars he sees a black Camry with a man sitting inside.

Chris heads over to the car and he shoves his suitcase in the back before getting in the passenger seat. Wesker stares over the steering wheel, his fingers tapping the gear stick. It’s freezing inside the car and Chris shivers as he sits on the cool leather seat, rubbing his hands to warm them up.

“Did anyone see you?”

Chris pauses and nods, “One of the med office employees caught me on my way out.”

Wesker sighs and grabs the bridge of his nose, a frown appearing on his face. “You should’ve been more careful, Chris.”

“It was either going through the office or the front doors with the security guard and I figured the office would have less issues. The guy in the office seemed too scared to try anything.”

Wesker nods, but he still doesn’t seem happy. He turns his key in the ignition and the car stutters before the engine lets out a rumble. Wesker puts the car in drive and takes off on the long road out of Shuksan.

“You got everything you need?” Chris asks as he puts on his seatbelt and fiddles with the air, turning it up to a warmer temperature.

“Yes, and I’ve got enough gas to get us to Idaho safely. That’s if no… complications arise.”

Chris nods and looks out the window at the forest around them. It’s pitch black and only silhouettes of trees can be seen, the road ahead of them is the only thing that is visible. It’s about a thirty minute drive before you even hit the main road.

“You should try and get some sleep, it’s a long ride ahead of us.”

Chris nods again and leans his head against the headrest. His eyes slip shut and the last thing he sees is the welcome sign to Shuksan Peak Rehab.


	8. Sunshine (Go Away Today)

_ **Thursday, 10:05 a.m.** _

_ **Shell Gas Station** _

_ **Keystone, ID** _

_ “Chris, wake up. Chris.” _

Chris wakes with a start, his hand reaching up to grab whoever is over him. The other person’s hand stops him mid reach and he opens his eyes to see Wesker looming over him from the driver’s seat. Chris groans as his heartbeat calms and he pulls his hand back, covering his mouth as he yawns. Wesker sinks back in his seat with a huff and rubs at his eyes, dragging Chris’s attention to the bags under them.

“Where are we?” He asks and glances around. They’re currently parked at a gas pump and Chris can see a gas station attendant inside the store looking bored to death. It’s daytime and Chris briefly wonders how long he’s been out.

“Keystone, Idaho. I think it’s best we stay here until nighttime, I need to rest before driving again.”

“I can drive too, Wesker.” Chris says with a frown and watches as the other man shakes his head.

“Yes, but I know where we’re going whereas you don’t. It’s also easier to drive at night with less traffic.”

“Fine,” Chris says as he lets out an annoyed breath. Wesker nods and sits up straighter, fingers tapping along the steering wheel in thought.

“I suggest you get something to eat from the gas station. Who knows when our next stop will be.”

“Do you want anything?” Chris asks as he gets out of the car, opening the backseat door to get into his suitcase to grab his wallet. It feels weird asking his enemy what he wants from a gas station, but Chris is trying to put the past behind him. The man in the driver’s seat is someone different than the red-eyed monstrosity Chris is familiar with, and so Chris has decided to try his hardest to act as if Wesker is simply another person to him.

“A bottle of water would be nice.” The man says slowly and glances back at Chris.

“No problem. Be back in a second.”

Chris heads over to the gas station and opens the door, the station attendant giving him a quick look over before going back to gazing at the magazine in front of her. He wanders to the drink section in the back and grabs a bottle of water, briefly debating on what he should get for himself.

While reaching for another water he hears a commotion from the front and he peeks over his shoulder to see a hooded figure in front of the cash register.

“I want you to hand me all the money in the register. The less of a deal you make of this, the easier this goes. The more fuss you make, the less patience I have.” A deep voice says with a sharp tone.

The hairs on Chris’s neck raise and he puts the water in his hand back into the freezer quietly, slowly shutting the door.

The gas station attendant mutely nods and her face is pinched as she starts to take money from the cash register.

Chris feels the need to stop this rise in his gut and he crouches down as he sneaks through an aisle, watching the hooded figure’s hands that are threateningly tucked into his pockets. Does the guy actually have a gun?

Chris flinches as someone new walks in and gains the hooded figure’s attention. He takes this time to leap forward and tackle the man, making the both of them slam into the floor. The hooded figure groans in pain and Chris quickly digs through the other’s pockets, finding a pocket knife which he throws to the side as he rolls the hooded figure on to their stomach. He grabs the other’s arms and holds them together, sitting on the back of the hooded figure.

“I’m gonna give you two options, option one is you apologize to the lady at the cash register and get out of here right now. Option two is I keep you down while she calls the police and you face the consequences of this robbery attempt.” Chris says and squeezes the other’s arms tighter. “I would pick option one.”

The hooded figure wiggles and tries to break free, grunting as Chris makes his grip even tighter.

“F-fine, I’m sorry.” The other hisses and Chris lets go, backing away. The hooded figure gets up and rushes out of the store, leaving behind a scared customer and a frozen attendant.

Chris walks back to the drinks section and grabs two bottles of water, snatching a bag of chips on his way to the cash register. He tosses it all on the counter and opens his wallet, digging out two five dollar bills.

“I think this should cover it,” Chris says as he lays down the money and he glances up at the station attendant as she remains silent.

“I-I… thanks for that. I would’ve never thought that would happen, especially during the day. If you weren’t here the place would’ve been robbed and that man could’ve killed someone.” She finally says and Chris waves it off, taking his chips and drinks as she hands them over along with his change.

“It’s no problem, just watch out for yourself and be ready for something like that to happen. People will do anything when they’re desperate.”

She nods and he tips his head down as a goodbye, heading out of the store and back to the car.

He gets in and hands Wesker a water bottle, opening his own to take a sip.

“Did something happen in there? I saw a man hurry out looking frantic.” Wesker asks and takes a swig of his water.

Chris shrugs and caps his drink. “Just a little altercation. Nothing that couldn’t be resolved.”

Wesker raises an eyebrow at Chris’s elusive words, but nods and starts the car. They cruise out of the gas station and turn onto an empty street, driving past the occasional store.

“So where are we heading right now?” Chris asks and watches as buildings get more frequent as they near the heart of Keystone.

“While I was refilling the gas tank I asked a couple if they know of any nearby hotels. They told me that there’s a Super 8 this way and around the corner. I figured I would rest and you could eat and bathe yourself in the meantime.”

Chris nods and glances out the window as the conversation turns silent. Keystone is a small town and, from a quick look around at passing cars and people walking down the sidewalk, it looks like the majority of the population consists of the elderly and middle-aged. Chris feels old as he realizes he falls into that category and sighs as he thinks back to when he was younger, but along with that comes the memories of the downfall of S.T.A.R.S. and fighting to stop Umbrella. Getting older didn’t get any easier as everyday was still a battle while working for the BSAA.

Chris sighs and flinches as a hand landed on his shoulder, he looks over and Wesker stares back at him with a raised eyebrow.

“We’re here.” Wesker says and Chris can hear the hint of concern under the icy tone, can tell by the way Wesker’s hand briefly squeezes his shoulder and Chris suddenly feels sick.

“Sorry, got distracted.” Chris says and none too gently breaks free of Wesker’s hold, opening the car door and stepping outside. Chris opens the backseat door and pulls out his suitcase and leaves Wesker behind to check them in.

The lobby walls in the hotel are bare except for the occasional painting or the Super 8 logo. A woman stands at the front desk, a smile on her face as Chris comes closer. He can see her nose wrinkle as he steps up and he discreetly checks himself, wincing as the smell of not taking a shower in a day-and-a-half hits him.

“How can I help you, sir?” The lady asks, her name tag reading “Brenda” now that Chris is close enough to see it.

“I was wondering if you had any rooms available,” Chris gruffly asks and her smile turns into a frown as she turns to the computer in front of her.

“Sorry sir, it looks like all our rooms are booked right now. I’m afraid we don’t have an opening till this weekend.” Brenda says and Chris frowns, his teeth gritting together.

“You don’t have even one room open? Not even a single bed?” He asks, his tone incredulous and Brenda shakes her head.

“I’m sorry sir, but we’re full. There’s a hotel in the next town over and I’m sure they’ll have a room for you.” Brenda says, sounding as if she could care less as she stares into Chris’s eyes.

Chris opens his mouth, but clicks it shut as someone steps up behind him.

“I’m afraid I have another customer, sir.”

Chris frowns and turns around, checking who was behind him and raising an eyebrow as he sees Wesker. The man gives him a faint smile.

As he walks past Wesker the man briefly presses into him, his lips brushing Chris’s ear as he whispers.

“Wait for me in the stairwell.”

Wesker steps closer to the desk after that, a cool smile on his face as he greets Brenda. Chris hesitates for a moment, but goes to the stairwell and waits for Wesker.

Chris frowns as he sits on the steps, raising a hand to his face and feeling rough stubble scrape across his palm. He runs his hand down his neck, wincing as he feels the aching bruises on his throat. God, no wonder that woman turned him away.

He looks up as he hears the stairwell door open and watches as Wesker walks in with his suitcase.

“I got us a room on the second floor, but it only has one bed.” Wesker says and Chris glances at the room keycard in Wesker’s hand.

Chris shrugs as he stands up and briefly stretches, “Doesn’t matter. You’re the only one sleeping.” 

They both head upstairs and into their room, Wesker immediately heading to the bathroom to prepare for bed and Chris goes over to the small TV to turn it on to the news. He sits on the edge of the bed, his bag of chips from the gas station open and he feeds himself a hand full as he watches.

“We have breaking news to report,” the anchorman says once the brief commercial break is over and frowns as he reads from the teleprompt. “There has been what officers believe is a kidnapping case in Washington state at a rehab center known as Shuksan Peak. Late last night, a resident at the rehab was reported leaving under suspicious circumstances and this morning a counselor is reported missing. For now, names are not being released to the public but we will continue to update you on this story.”

Chris coughs as he chokes on a chip and he gasps once he can finally breathe. It’s too early for this to be happening, Chris was expecting days before either he or Wesker got reported missing. It has to be that employee Chris bumped into before leaving, either that or Jill. Chris puts his chips to the side even as his stomach rumbles, with the urge to eat gone he stands and goes over to the tiny hotel window.

They still have a day and how many hours ahead of them before they reach their destination. Chris curses under his breath and runs a hand through his hair, messing up his already crazy bed head as he paces in front of the window.

He hears Wesker leave the bathroom and turns towards the other man to tell him of the bad news, but pauses at the sight that greets him. Wesker has silk pajama pants on that ride low on his sharp hip bones and his chest is bare. Chris feels off at the sight, so used to seeing Wesker covered up completely from head to toe. Gunmetal eyes question him as he looks back at Wesker’s face and Chris clears his throat, feeling oddly warm in the face.

“Someone reported me leaving Shuksan Peak and you as missing, the officers there are treating it as a kidnapping. They haven’t said our names yet,” Chris explains and Wesker’s eyebrows furrow.

“That’s not good, but we can’t let that change our plans now.” Wesker says with a calm tone and Chris nods in agreement, sitting down in a leather chair off to the side and cradling his head in his hands. He rubs at his temples to try and relax an oncoming headache before straightening up and meeting Wesker’s gaze again.

“For now, we should avoid public places as much as we can. We don’t want to leave a trail for anyone to follow.” Chris warns and Wesker hums, moving towards the bed.

“If anything changes let me know. I’m going to try and sleep so we can get back on the road faster.”

Chris gets up as Wesker settles into bed and goes to the bathroom, locking the door behind him and he turns on the shower. On the counter there is a complimentary bottle of shampoo and a bar of soap, Chris strips and grabs them as he gets into the shower. The warm water soothes him and he can feel all the aches and pains from sleeping in the car disappear as water streams down his back.

He quickly cleans himself and throws a towel around his hips as he leaves the bathroom. He steps out into the room and digs through his luggage for a change of clothes and a toothbrush along with some toothpaste, hurrying back into the bathroom to change and brush his teeth. Once he steps out into the room he feels like a new man, his stubble is a little too long right now but that can wait for later.

His stomach growls to remind him of his hunger and Chris sighs, but perks up at the sight of a pizza place flyer by the TV. He grabs it and walks over to the phone on the nightstand, dialing in the number and quickly placing an order.

Not even ten minutes later someone knocks at the door and after an exchange of money Chris finally gets his pizza. He takes a seat in the leather chair and opens the box to pull out a slice of pizza, groaning as the flavor hits his taste buds.

At the rehab they could eat healthy food or the occasional burger or fried chicken, but never pizza. It was one of the things on Chris’s long list of stuff he missed about life outside of Shuksan Peak. He glances over at Wesker sleeping in bed and wonders whether to wake him or not so that the man can eat, before deciding to let him rest.

After Chris has had a few more slices he puts the rest away in the tiny mini fridge and wanders over to the TV again, setting the volume on low as to not disturb Wesker. He changes the channel off of the news and lands on a game show network, but decides to leave it on and relaxes back into his chair as he watches.

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to tell me about any errors, I'm a little (more like a lot) rusty at writing.


End file.
